


Worth Every Penny

by selfreliantscientist



Series: Kinkvale Ficathon [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Accidental Prostitution, Kinkvale Ficathon, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfreliantscientist/pseuds/selfreliantscientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus invites Cecil to Vansten Manor to hash out some plans, and makes an offhand proposal that Cecil enthusiastically accepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Every Penny

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mod R on Kinkvale, specifically, number four on [this post.](http://kinkvale.tumblr.com/post/91885779672/mod-rs-super-important-special-top-five-mighty-need)
> 
> Pens and pencils have not yet been banned at the time this fic takes place.

“Welcome back, listeners. Before I sign off for the day, I’d like to make one further announcement, of personal as well as public relevance. As you may know, I recently celebrated my eighteenth birthday. Since I have now reached the age of majority, I am fully qualified to take over Leonard Burton’s job as Night Vale’s full time community radio host. Leonard has become a close friend of mine over the years I’ve been serving as a part-time host at this station, so it pains me to announce that he will be retiring at the end of the month. 

“Leonard, I speak for all of us here at Night Vale Community Radio, and for all of our listeners, when I say that you will be missed. I will do my best to serve our community in your place, but you have left some difficult shoes to fill. 

“I mean that literally, by the way. There’s this pair of shoes Leonard left in the studio, and no matter what I put in them, they still seem just as empty as they did before. I try to just walk around them and pretend they’re not there. 

“I invite you all to listen to Leonard’s final broadcast on the 30th, and then be sure to tune in the following day for my inaugural broadcast as your primary news reporter. For now, I turn you over to my friend and mentor. Take it away, Leonard!” 

Cecil hit a switch, transferring control of the broadcast to the main studio. As he put away his headphones and packed up to leave the radio station, he practically bounced with excitement. Just a few more weeks! The purpose he’d been born to fulfill was upon him. 

While he would indeed miss Leonard, who’d been an important figure not just in their community but in Cecil’s personal life, that feeling was dwarfed compared to his eagerness to take Leonard’s place. 

He’d started writing down ideas in a notebook, for what to do when his time came. He would have to make the news program his own, while keeping up the traditions that Night Vale had come to rely upon. It would be a challenge, but Cecil looked forward to meeting it.

The next day, Cecil received a letter at his apartment. He rarely received letters; people tended to worry about the Sheriff’s Secret Police intercepting them. That in itself wasn’t so bad, since the Sheriff’s Secret Police pretty much knew everything anyway, but the letters often arrived partially redacted and featuring colorful commentary from whichever Secret Police Officer had been tasked with opening them. First-class post was spared this treatment (though still subject to interception) but was so outrageously expensive that no money-conscious citizen could be expected to pay for it.

This letter had come from the one person in Night Vale who could afford not to worry about money. 

On monogrammed letterhead, Night Vale’s wealthiest resident had scrawled: 

 _Hey, Palmer Kid,_  

_Come to my mansion at your earliest convenience. Something I wanna discuss with you._

_-MV_  

Cecil was all too happy to comply. 

Later that afternoon, a doorman showed him into Vansten Manor, and instructed him to remove his shoes. Cecil remembered the manor being constructed, back when he was a kid. There was some sort of controversy about the size of the building, the permits required for it, and something about blackmailing a City Council member who had said an improper prayer in a bloodstone circle. The adults had talked about it a lot, but Cecil hadn’t really known what was going on at the time. He mostly just thought Vansten Manor looked neat, and had hoped to one day look around inside. 

Once inside and barefoot, another attendant took the doorman’s place and led Cecil through a hallway with marble floors, stone columns on either side, and a windowed ceiling through which the desert sun shone brightly, though the oppressive heat was much reduced in this environment. 

Up a staircase, and down another hallway, the attendant showed Cecil to a door, upon which the young broadcaster hesitantly knocked. 

“You’re not gonna make me open the door myself, are you? What do I pay you for?” A gruff voice sounded from behind the door. Impassively, the attendant opened the door and showed Cecil inside an opulent room. 

It was full of cushions and sofas and chairs of every color imaginable. Clear plastic tubes ran along walls and the ceiling and through the air. The provenance of the plastic tubes could be explained by the fact that the room was also full of ferrets. And right in the middle of the room, with ferrets running around and over him, was Marcus Vansten. 

Cecil had heard the rumors about Mr. Vansten. Many rumors, in fact; far too many for all of them to be true. One in particular, though, seemed to be confirmed, as the man who greeted Cecil was entirely nude. 

“Hey, Palmer Kid! You made it!” As Marcus rose to his feet, he tossed the ferret he’d been playing with across the room. To Cecil’s relief, the little creature caught onto one of the plastic tubes and began running along the outside of it. 

Cecil struggled to keep his eyes on Marcus’ face. “Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Vansten.” 

“Sure thing, kid. I had this idea about- hey!” A ferret had just dropped onto the billionaire’s head. He shook it off. “Maybe the ferret room isn’t the greatest place to talk. Come on.” 

He clapped a hand on Cecil’s shoulder and led him back into the hallway. Cecil made an effort to face straight ahead, to avoid dropping his eyes down and to the left. 

It wasn’t just the money that made Marcus attractive, although his wealth did give him a certain allure. Marcus was broad-shouldered, muscular, tan, and his light-brown hair was delightfully tousled after the encounter with that one ferret. Cecil wanted to reach up and comb the hair into place with his fingers, but that would be entirely too presumptuous. After Marcus had been kind enough to invite Cecil into his manor, Cecil could at least practice a modicum of self-control. 

Marcus hadn’t said anything since they exited the ferret room, and they were setting down another long hallway. Cecil needed to break the silence. He said the first thing that came into his head. “Aren’t ferrets illegal in this state?” 

“Are they? That’s no good. If that’s a real law, we’ve got to get rid of it. I’ll tell my assistant to get on that right away.” 

“You can just get rid of laws like that?” 

“If you can pay off the lawmakers, sure. Here we are.” Marcus opened a door to a room laid out much as the ferret room had been, though without the tubes or the ferrets. “Sit anywhere.” 

Cecil perched on the edge of a cushy sofa, and Marcus threw himself down onto a pile of cushions. 

“So I was thinking I’d like to throw you a party. To celebrate you joining the ranks of our town’s most notable citizens.”  
  
“Oh,” said Cecil, determinedly keeping his eyes focused on Marcus’ face. Not that Marcus returned this consideration; the billionaire was absentmindedly picking at his nails. “That sounds great.” 

Marcus grinned. “I’m glad you think so. Any idea what kind of place would be a good venue? We could set up a tent in the park, if you wanna go the cheap route, but there are some, uh, _things_ in that part of town that we should maybe stay away from.” Obviously he was referring to the shape that no one acknowledges or speaks about. “Or on the other end of the spectrum we could rent out Gino’s for the night.” Marcus rested his arms behind his head.

“Wow,” said Cecil, definitely about the prospect of taking over the fanciest restaurant in town and not at the sight of Marcus’ well-muscled chest. “Gino’s would be amazing. But, um… do you think we could get… could we have the party over at Desert Flower?” 

“The bowling alley?” Asked Marcus, raising an eyebrow.

“And arcade fun complex,” Cecil corrected him. 

“Right, bowling alley and arcade fun complex. You really want to have the party there?” 

“If you don’t think it’s a good idea then-” 

“No, no, I’m not saying that. It’s just… don’t you bowl there, like, every week? I want the party to be special, you know?”

Cecil nodded. “Desert Flower _is_ special to me. That’s why I spend so much time there. It’s… it would be the perfect place, if everyone I know is there at once, if we can all bowl and play arcade games together for hours on end, I think it’d be neat.” 

“Okay,” said Marcus, “I can see that. Desert Flower it is. My assistant will ask you for a guest list sometime this week. Just put all your friends on it; I’ll take care of inviting the important people.” 

“Important people?” Cecil repeated. 

“Yeah. Mayor Garmond, Leann Hart, John Peters, you know, the farmer? People like that. Big names in town. They’ll wanna know Night Vale’s new preeminent radio host, and he should get to know them too. Why do you think I’m running this shindig?” 

“Oh,” said Cecil. The party sounded a lot less fun now that he knew it was basically a way for influential locals to try to maintain their status. 

Marcus kept talking, not paying any mind to Cecil’s disappointed tone. “I’m jealous, really. Not too long ago I was the new local celebrity, making front page stories, hearing my name on everybody’s lips when my chauffeur drove me around town. You must be having a blast, making friends, gaining fans, getting laid left and right…” 

Cecil laughed. 

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” 

“Not exactly.” 

“A kid in your position? Come on, you’ve gotta be having at least a little sex.” 

Cecil shook his head. “Never.” 

“ _Never?”_  

Oh. Cecil hadn’t particularly intended on giving that detail away. 

“Well, I mean… um, no, not really.” He was pretty sure none of the things he’d gotten up to with Earl quite counted. 

“Wow. I’d just assume folks’d be lining up to take you out for a spin. I’d pay hard money for a shot at you.” 

Cecil’s jaw dropped at the implication that _Marcus Vansten_ would be interested in him. “Really?” 

“Hell yeah. You’re cute. And self-assured, too. Looking at you I’d never think you were poor and young. You could pass for one of those gorgeous trust fund jerks any day. Well, except I bet you’re not as clingy as those guys. And probably way more fun to sleep with.” Apparently lost in thought, Marcus let his gaze drift to the ceiling. “I’d love a chance to find out.” 

“ _Really?”_  

Returning his attention to Cecil, Marcus leaned forward and asked, “Do you want me to prove it to you?” 

Dumbstruck, Cecil could only nod. 

Marcus got up from his pile of cushions and walked the few steps to where Cecil sat. He took Cecil’s hand and pulled him to a standing position, then kissed him. Gently at first, lips against lips and strong arms drawing around the young man’s frame. After a moment, Cecil relaxed into the kiss, lips parting and hands drawing up to rest against bare shoulders. 

Taking advantage of Cecil’s response, Marcus pressed them closer together, licking Cecil’s lips and just slightly inside them. Cecil groaned, pressing his tongue forward to flick against the roof of Marcus’ mouth. He could hardly believe this was happening. 

“Are you convinced now?” Marcus asked, grinning.

“I don’t know,” said Cecil, somewhat dazed. “I think maybe you should do it again.” 

“Of course.” Marcus held Cecil’s chin in his hand and brought their mouths together once more. 

Cecil hoped the kiss would never end. Everything was warm and wet and pulsing and Cecil was sliding his hands along Marcus’ back and the skin beneath his palms was smooth and wonderful and Cecil was happier than perhaps he’d ever been. 

“Oh!” He gasped as he felt Marcus’ hand squeezing his ass.

“Sorry!” Said Marcus. “Should’ve asked. Was… is that okay?” 

“More than okay,” said Cecil, squirming under Marcus’ touch. “Um… but only if I’m allowed to do it to you, too.” 

“Sure thing, kid.” Marcus took one of Cecil’s hands and guided it into place. Cecil spread his fingers, just lightly brushing the flesh underneath his grip. 

Then Marcus’ tongue was in his mouth, and Cecil reflexively dug his fingers into Marcus’ flesh, and Marcus made a small, surprised noise as he pulled away. 

“They don’t teach you poor kids any restraint, do they?” Asked Marcus, nudging Cecil’s growing erection with his knee. 

“Hey! I’m not the one walking around naked with guests in his house!” Cecil shot back, embarrassed.

“Well maybe you should fix that.” Marcus slipped his fingers under the hem of Cecil’s shirt. Cecil’s breath hitched. “Do you want to?” 

In answer, Cecil reached up and undid his top button. 

“I mean, just because we were making out it doesn’t mean you have to...” Marcus trailed off when Cecil, having loosened his collar, pulled his shirt over his head in one easy motion. 

“I want to,” said Cecil, dropping his shirt and putting his hands on Marcus again. “Unless you weren’t being serious after all.” 

Marcus grabbed Cecil and pulled him down into the pile of cushions he’d been sitting on earlier. “I’ll show you serious.” 

Marcus’ hands seemed to be _everywhere_ at once. Cecil writhed on top of him, mewling whenever Marcus’ fingers or tongue flicked over someplace particularly sensitive. After a few minutes, the strain of Cecil’s confined arousal became too great to bear, and he pulled away just enough to reach down and liberate himself from the fabric that contained him. 

While Cecil kicked his pants off, Marcus watched approvingly. Seeing the way Marcus’ eyes focused on his erection, Cecil finally allowed himself to look at the one part of Marcus he’d trying not to all along. He was surprised to see little gold stud glinting back at him. “You have a piercing,” he said. 

“Wow, for a public school kid, you’re really observant,” said Marcus with a smirk. 

“Shut up! I wasn’t looking because I didn’t want to invade your privacy!”  
  
“Doesn’t count as invading my privacy if I put it on display.” Marcus shifted his legs, framing his penis more deliberately. “Like what you see?” 

Cecil nodded. 

“C’mere.” Marcus pulled Cecil back on top of him, brushing their cocks together as he again claimed Cecil’s mouth with his own. When Marcus’ hands cupped Cecil’s ass he pushed back into the touch, enjoying the feeling of flesh against flesh. Then Marcus dipped the fingers of one hand between Cecil’s ass cheeks and Cecil whimpered in pleasure. “You gonna let me inside there?” Asked Marcus. 

“Oh yes,” said Cecil.

Marcus grinned, then he stood up, leaving Cecil to awkwardly get to his feet while the billionaire opened the door and shouted into the hallway, “Hey! We need some condoms and lube in here _now!”_

Cecil folded his hands together, unsure what to do until Marcus turned his attention back to him. 

“Here, just lie back and relax, okay?” Said Marcus, taking hold of Cecil and lowering him onto the cushions. The door opened, and the attendant from before handed the requested items to Marcus. When the attendant entered the room, Cecil grabbed a small cushion and held it in front of himself. Marcus laughed when he noticed. “You don’t have to worry about the help. They barely count as real people.” 

“But…” Cecil’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He _is_ real.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re squeamish about having sex with a servant in the room. What if I want him to hand me something?”

“Maaarcuus!” Cecil whined. 

“Okay, okay. Get out of here, will ya?” The attendant nodded and left them alone. Marcus grabbed Cecil’s modesty cushion and tossed it away before covering Cecil’s body with his, arms braced on either side of Cecil’s head. “Now,” he said, kissing Cecil’s neck, “We can get to the fun part.” He moved his mouth lower, kissing Cecil’s chest, his stomach, his hip. 

Cecil reached down, combing his fingers through Marcus’ hair. Their activities had only made it more of a delightful mess. 

Marcus poured lube into his hand, coating his fingers. Keeping hold of Marcus’ hair, Cecil watched as the slippery hand rubbed against him, fingers just barely skimming against his anus. He gasped. 

“Easy, kid,” said Marcus. Cecil could feel a fingertip pressing lightly against his hole. “You ready for this?” 

“Please,” said Cecil, which wasn’t in strict grammatical accordance with the question Marcus had posed, but he couldn’t be bothered to correct himself. 

As Marcus’ finger pushed inside, Cecil released his grip on Marcus’ hair and let his hands fall to his sides. 

“Jesus, you’re tense,” said Marcus. “Does that feel okay? Is it too much? Should I-” 

“Leave it in!” Said Cecil, before Marcus could withdraw the digit. “It’s… um, it’s unusual, but… I want to get used to it.” 

“Okay,” said Marcus. “Take as long as you need.” He kissed Cecil’s bent knee, and Cecil shuddered. For the next several minutes Marcus whispered reassurances while Cecil got used to the feeling of something penetrating him. When Cecil decided that he was ready for more and pushed back against Marcus’ hand, Marcus chuckled. “All right, all right, I’ve got ya.” He pushed his finger in a little further before drawing it partially out, and pushing in deeper still. 

“Feels good,” said Cecil. 

Marcus took his time before adding another finger, being sure to let Cecil acclimate every time he gave him more. Finally, with Cecil squirming underneath him, Marcus asked, “Do you think you’re ready for my cock?” 

“Fuck yes!” Said Cecil, arching his back from the feeling of what Marcus was already giving him. 

“Great. Just a minute then.” Marcus shot Cecil a charming smile as he withdrew his hand and turned his attention to unwrapping a condom. Cecil laid still, taking the chance to rest from the intensity of the sensations and the attention. 

When Marcus was prepared, he pinned Cecil beneath him again, grinning down at him like a Cheshire cat. “You’re sure you-” 

He was interrupted by Cecil saying “Just get inside me already!” 

“Well aren’t you demanding,” said Marcus. “You sure you’re not a trust fund jerk?” 

Cecil just glared up at him. Marcus shrugged, as well as one could shrug while supporting his torso with one arm, and reached down to guide himself into Cecil.

Marcus’ cock was thicker than his fingers had been. Cecil’s mouth opened in a silent cry of ecstasy as Marcus pushed forward, stretching him wider and wider. Just when Cecil thought he couldn’t handle any more, Marcus stopped. 

“Is that all of it?” Cecil asked. 

“Almost,” said Marcus. “How you doing?” 

“It’s good, but, um, can you hold off on the rest?” 

“Yeah, take your time. I could stay like this all day if you wanted.” 

“I won’t need _that_ long.” Cecil brought his arms up, resting one hand on Marcus’ back and tangling the other in his hair. “Actually, I think I’m ready no _oh_.” He broke off into a moan as Marcus pushed the rest of the way in. 

“You still okay?” Asked Marcus, unsure whether Cecil’s broken speech had been a positive or negative sign. 

“Yesss,” Cecil hissed, overwhelmed but happily so. 

“Good.” Marcus drew out a ways before pressing in again, steadily, rhythmically, giving Cecil a consistent sense of motion. 

Cecil lifted his head and kissed Marcus, wanting to feel him with as much of his body at once as he possibly could. He shifted his hips as Marcus thrust forward, encouraging him deeper. When Marcus slid past certain spots Cecil felt as though the sensation were tangible, a tingling energy that would fill his body until he burst. 

His hand tightened in Marcus’ hair at the thought. 

After a time, Marcus started punctuating each thrust with a kiss, to Cecil’s neck, his shoulder, his cheek. Cecil closed his eyes, letting the location of each kiss come as a surprise. There was too much to focus on. His brain couldn’t keep track of it all at once. The arm that he’d been holding against Marcus’ back fell to his side, and he barely paid it any mind. 

Cecil’s orgasm surprised him, and he gasped as Marcus just said “ _There_ you go.” For a moment Cecil felt his entire body relax, his mind filling with blissful peace. “Is that all you can handle, or should I finish?”

“Please do,” Cecil murmured, wanting to maintain this intimacy, the closeness with Marcus that he was enjoying. He felt somewhat disconnected, as though he were floating, and the specific sensations his body was experiencing no longer mattered. What mattered was that Marcus was there, with the kisses and the touching and a return of the rhythm from before, the cumulative effect of which lulled Cecil into a daze. 

Then Marcus stilled, and lowered himself to rest his head on Cecil’s chest. Cecil, still feeling calm and a little fuzzy, stroked his hair. When Marcus spoke, Cecil didn’t realize there was something to pay attention to until he was near the end of his statement. “... _mumble usn_ jerks” was about all he made out. 

“What did you say?” 

Marcus lifted his head, showing Cecil a smug smile. “I said you’re _way_ more fun to sleep with than those trust fund jerks.”

“You’re just saying that.” 

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that. No point. I already got what I wanted from you, didn’t I?” 

Cecil blinked, filling with a sense of cautious pride. “You really thought I was good?” 

“Kid, you took it like a real professional.” 

“Thank you,” said Cecil, biting back a delighted squeal at the compliment. 

Marcus drew out of Cecil and tossed the used condom aside, apparently uncaring about where it landed. Then he wrapped his arms around Cecil, snuggling into the cushions and closing his eyes. Cecil let himself rest against Marcus for a while, but he knew he couldn’t stay for long. 

“Marcus?” 

“Hyeah?” 

“I should probably get home soon.” 

“Y’can stay here if ya want,” Marcus mumbled. He hadn’t opened his eyes since Cecil started talking. 

“Um, no, I can’t,” Cecil explained. “I have to be at the radio station tonight. And I have to change clothes, and I should probably shower.” 

“I have a shower you can use. Actually, I have five showers. How many you need? Three?” 

“Just one. But, um, I really should go home. It’s lovely here, don’t get me wrong, but I need-” 

“Fine, go back to that hovel you call a home,” said Marcus. “Leave me all by myself with no one to hold onto. Whatever.” 

He might have sounded more sympathetic had he not been speaking into a pillow, making no effort whatsoever at eye contact. Cecil extricated himself from Marcus’ grasp and got dressed. When he was putting on his shirt, Marcus finally opened his eyes. 

“Wait!” He said, sitting up. 

“What is it?” Asked Cecil. 

“I have to pay you.” 

“What?” 

Marcus opened the door, shouting into the hallway. “Somebody get me my checkbook!” 

“Marcus, that’s really not nece-” 

“I said I would pay you and I will,” Marcus interrupted. 

It was a different attendant than Cecil had seen before, a woman, who brought a checkbook and pen into the room. Marcus grabbed them. “I am a man of my word,” he said, pointing at Cecil with the pen. “You’ll see. I do the things I say I will.” 

“Um, okay,” said Cecil, watching Marcus scribble on the check. 

“It’s not much,” said Marcus, “‘Cause this was mostly just a casual, friendly thing, right? But I said I would, so I figure I gotta give ya somethin’.” He ripped out the completed check and handed it to Cecil. “Don’t spend it all in one place.” 

Cecil accepted the check, then stared at the amount. “A thousand dollars?!” He said, disbelieving. 

“Like I said, it’s not much.” Marcus dropped the checkbook with as little deference as he’d paid to the condom. 

“Not much? Marcus, this is more than I make in a week!” 

“Really? Damn, I forget how much that kind of money is worth to you people. Well, enjoy it, kid. Thanks for a good time. And my assistant will be in touch about that guest list.” 

Cecil had almost forgotten about the party Marcus wanted to throw for him. “Okay, great! Thanks, Mr. Vansten!” 

“Mr. Vansten? What, I pay you off and suddenly I’m not Marcus anymore?” 

“Sorry. Marcus. Thank you, really, thank you so much. For everything.” 

Cecil walked home, sad to leave the opulent luxury of Vansten Manor but pleased to get to a place where he could shower and change into fresh clothes. He reflected that this may have been the best day of his life; certainly the best in recent memory. Not only did he have sex, with _Marcus Vansten_ of all people, he made a thousand dollars, _and_ was going to have a giant party thrown in his honor. 

Maybe the party shouldn’t count, because it wouldn’t actually be happening until a later date, but still, the sex and the money were more than enough. Marcus Vansten, thought Cecil, had to be Night Vale’s greatest resident. He resolved never to let his fellow citizens forget it.


End file.
